I especially enjoyed Anna ji’s account of her singing  a poem to the Master and His wife, Irena, ‘ “the soldier in love”, which tells the story of a soldier who goes to confront the fierce war—the first world war—and who is not afraid because he is sure of the love of his beloved.’

Also, especially dear to me, as a songwriter/guitar player, was her impression of His youthfulness when absorbed in creating and singing the bhajans.

I hope that some of you may find something for yourselves in this sweet account and, perhaps, recognize that it is possible to have the most personal relationship with a man of God. Yes, the work of spirituality is hard; it is often supremely demanding; but ultimately, we are children, and, as such we may someday find ourselves in the company of our loving Father. 

                                                      Namaste, jesse s. hanson

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The author with Master Sirio in His garden~photo taken in April 2011

Tuesday, 27 December. I just returned home. Tonight I left the office early—at 17.30. I said to myself, “I have an important commitment; I have to write and capture what happened to me this Christmas.” It was this morning that I first was struck with this desire. It was like when the musician has the musical notes all the day in the head, or the image that the painter has before his eyes. So, I have now the voice of my heart that wants to pour onto this blank white paper all the contents of the Grace that God wanted to give me through Satguru Sirio ji.  Luck, Grace, Miracle, what should I call it?  I just know that I happened to live three long days in the company of the Holy Master.  A precious gift? This is a fact! It certainly doesn’t happen every day.  For this, I am also a bit embarrassed. But then I say, if this happens to me, it’s only for being one of the witnesses to the Life of the Holy Son of Kirpal and Ajaib Singh. And that’s why I’m here: to write now what I cannot really express with words. But, still I write and I describe, in the most authentic way that I am able, what my eyes have seen.

Arrival.

It’s Christmas Eve. Enthusiastic as ever, I arrive at 9 a.m. at Sant Bani Ashram and the House of Sirio, Irena and Nirmala. I had travelled from four in the morning in darkness and cold of the night with Deepa (my sweet cat). We travelled without stopping, because the desire to spend more time with Him, the Master—in the midst of nature, singing, meditating—and being in the awareness that He exists and is waiting for me, was too strong. When will it again happen, an opportunity like that? Life is really a moment, a few minutes. Five minutes, said Cristina, Grandmother. “Remember, things happen in five minutes, those of the whole life!” Wise Grandma!  Three days on Christmas Eve: in an e-mail I informed the Master that I was free from the mundane work from 24 to 26 December and that those days would go in one of two ways: in His company, at Sant Bani, or alone in my small home, meditating and fasting with fruit. He replied that He would wait for me if I liked. He knew that I would go to the retreat from December 31 to January 6. So He wrote that He would wait and welcome me at that time. The rational mind, always deceitful, said that it might have been appropriate to remain at home to prepare for the scheduled retreat and spare us another trip, so, for a few days, there I went, in my mind.  To my great fortune, for me, my heart always wins. It is He who commands and no other. So the heart directed me and answered the Witch of my mind: “the company of Master is rare and never gets postponed! What evil is there if we travel one or two or three times up and down Italy? “For the Master, every sacrifice that we do, it is nothing!” Then I arrive, joyfully in morning, and stand under the stepladder  in the stone house, while the Master, from above—where the Orange tent is extended to embellish my room—smiles and gives his first Darshan to me. Then He drops down, joining hands to chest, saying: “Namaste!”   He cares to make me a fire and does not go away until the pump of the fireplace keeps going and functions properly. Silently, I start to put my things away and afterwards I dedicate myself to cleaning all the Windows of the House. I feel on my self  the Celestial and the Light of the Master’s Eye and, with this feeling, I understand that I have arrived.

Lunch. 

In these three wonderful days I felt completely welcomed and was made to feel at home by the Masters and Sirio, and also by Irena and Nirmala. Everything happened in a precise and yet spontaneous way. Sirio Ji, with the love of a Master, Friend, and Father, prepared simple meals, rich in joy, fantasy and colour, with extreme care and His special treatment. As He says: “The special ingredient that I use is the no-mind,” for this way everything is exquisite and incomparable with what you find in the world.  Every meal began with His salad Garden, with an original wild rocket that gave off a spicy sweet to all the senses. Then basmati rice, accompanied with various vegetables from the garden, cooked in a pan together with bits of tofu, spices, in olive oil, but I must say, what jumped into my eyes when I looked in the dish was the devotion. The dedication in making every single dish. Every time Sirio called me for lunch or dinner, it was a party. Many colours and perfumes mingled in dance. My heart wanted to weep with joy, but I could only say: “Master, now I sing!!”  And He was nodding and stated: “Sing!”

In the evening, on the day of Nirmala’s birthday and Christmas Eve, Sirio Ji has created in His and Irena’s house, an atmosphere of peace, love, kindness, friendship, seriousness, contentment, and extreme goodness of mind, which captured and conquered all my inner being, and also that of Nirmala and her boyfriend Antonio. Having cooked with His hands fresh ravioli stuffed with ricotta cheese and broccoli, cream of almonds and walnuts, salad of various colours, miso soup and a big cake, made with aromatic spices, dried fruits, cacao, oil, flour, milk, and plenty of love, He prepared the table with a unique beauty. On a steel plate, 30 round small candles in honour of his only daughter. Finally, He is sitting at the table waiting. I had gone down with my car to the beginning of the unmade road, as the car of Antonio couldn’t get all the way home. The Master is sitting. When, at last in we arrive at the house, we see Him sitting on His shoulder-high armchair Chair. His property. Peaceful. Cheery. Emanates His joy at our being home with him. He doesn’t turn, while hearing our voices and steps. He remains sitting cross-legged with clasped hands. In His elegant and simple Indian dress, pearl grey with green vest top.

To me, it is an extraordinary impression. I seem to see in His figure the synthesis of His Masters: Kirpal—strong, joyful, cheerful… and Ajaib—determined, still, quiet and balanced like a mountain. He is sitting. Without saying anything. Without moving one iota.  All three of us remain speechless. As puppets, which move with the air of His breath. Then, as we expect Him to start talking, “Please sit; tonight I serve You.” Gently He tells us. We laugh and we remain silent in front of the beauty of such a Time that we really will never forget.

 Bhajan. 

How much meditation do we need to sit and be aware in front of a Master? I wonder every time I get the privilege and gift to sit in front of Him in the kitchen. On the evening of Christmas Eve before Nirmala’s birthday dinner, I’m going to knock on the door of Sirio and Irena and, with extreme shyness to Sirio I tell Him that I have the feeling in my heart of singing a Bhajan. It is in fact a Neapolitan poem from 1915, “the soldier in love”, which tells the story of a soldier who goes to confront the fierce war—the first world war—and who is not afraid because he is sure of the love of his beloved. That is why he sings: “you are loved, you are my life, you are the first love, and first and last you remain!”  I read the poem, translated into Italian, and then I sing the Neapolitan song. Then I whisper with shyness that for me this can be performed by the disciple soldier who declares his love to his Lord.

After this, I wonder if I can continue to sing. He moves His head forward slightly to say Yes. I sing Tagore’s poem from memory—which He sang in the last retreat in Budapest—“I do not know from which Distance” with eyes closed and I dive into the sweetness of His light, energy, and vibration. At the end of the Bhajan, He makes the sign of a clap, as an expression of His pleasure.  Irena requires, after a few minutes that I repeat the Neapolitan song. And so I am excited and I sing it again with more intense Love.

This Christmas I sang to the Masters, Irena and Sirio, the Bhajans from my heart. Some of them, I sung from memory and I must say that it led to profound experiences. During the singing, I felt as if, at some point, I left the words standing and followed only the sound; I entered that space very slowly, as if echoing someone else’s cares and I focused on the words and the melody. I had the feeling of being somewhere in my house in Preganziol, and also in the kitchen of Master Sirio. I felt that I was in the sound, the light, in the air.

In the morning, during the day, and in the evening, before sleep, I sang all those Bhajans that I know from memory—about a dozen of them. I have sung to the Masters, Irena, and Sirio, and also to myself, to my soul that, intoxicated, is living in the constant reminder of the true love of the Master. “It is like a drug!” says Sirio ji about divine ecstasy that you feel when you have deep internal emotions. “The more we receive, the more we would receive. Don’t ever give up.” The Bhajans that evening conclude with the Master, who takes the guitar and plays. He plays! In front of me plays a young boy of twenty years, intoxicated and glad that finally his quest is over. The Master has captured him and He is ready to serve until the end. As a brave young soldier in love, He plays and sings in an admirable way. His sound silences and sends me into ecstasy. I am transported to the early days, when, Irena and I, were in the bedroom conversing one morning. He arrived from Poggibonsi (Siena), and with such a light and delicate manner, He picked the guitar and sang two bhajans, one behind the other. I still remember: I love the Ground, and after, Darshan Dekh Jivan. At the end of the Bhajan He said: “Madams, the Festival is over!” Without saying a Word, enchanted, I went on, leaving Bobi and Bibi ji, alone. 

The Bhajan. How many bhajans the Master sang in these three days? It’s the truth. More singing, I want more, ever and ever again. It’s a healthy addiction!

On Christmas morning, leading into meditation, Master Ji sings another Bhajan of Tagore, who says:

O Lord of my life, day after day

I will stay  before You,  face to face.

O Lord of all worlds, with hands clasped

I will stay before You  face to face.

In this tumultuous world, laborious

You’re in trouble, and in the struggle

Between people hasty

I will stay before You  face to face.

When my work in this world will be concluded

 Only and mute, then silent

I will stay before You  face to face.

The poem is heartbreaking for the quality of his words but above all for the way in which Sirio ji sings, playing the tambura. Singing, the Master manages to dissolve His whole being and whoever perceives it, gets intoxicated with love, light, peace, and divine ecstasy, enough to feel crazy. The healthy madness. During the Satsang, Master, at one point, rises up and chides me for not having kept the roaring fire. And tells me: “If you don’t know how to hold a fire lit, then what does it mean, anything else?” I remain speechless and, joyful in the intoxication of my being, I welcome His words as His way of teaching. The Master, using practical things, makes me see the spiritual way. What is outside must also be inside and opposite. We must treat the interior as the exterior. The two things must walk, travel together. It takes focus, perseverance, persistence. Nothing else. I contemplate: these are the ingredients revealed to me by Master Ji in Satsang at Christmas. At the end of the Satsang, I sang a Bhajan of Kirpal Singh—Zindagi ab ho gayi (My soul and my life are useless without You). After that morning, and for two days long, I have maintained a constant flame, adjusted both high and fair. The fireplace is in my heart, mind and consciousness; I pray to be able to keep it for as long as possible.

Departure

How many meetings with the Master Sirio I received for His grace in this splendid Christmas. How many things we shared and exchanged, often with eyes of love, with smiles, and speechless. Most, like the private interview, I was speaking—to explain to Him—the way I see things in the world around me that I create, day by day. He so lovingly, fatherly, listened to me, and eventually He always said, in a word, where I should aim for. Never get confused by others and look always to the goal.

At the end, as if in some inner design of my own—to end this magical encounter between Master and daughter disciple—I asked Him to come to greet me in the House, the place where I dwell, while staying here, if he could. After lunch when there was no hoping that more would come, He said to me: “Annji at four prepares a tea, step from you!.” Now I run to make the room, which is my Home now, cosy and warm. My home is already quite in order but I am still busy making it more ordered, since the Master comes to visit me.  Prepare the table with a handkerchief of satin pink in the centre of a plate with two glasses, one high and great for Him, one short and low for me. It’s a soft armchair with small cushions and a colourful rug, hand-embroidered with blue and yellow flowers. I sit quietly on a low stool. The look. He looks out the door and He bewitches, by the beauty of the landscape. “It’s a poster!” He says. I admire Him, and while I admire, I see: He is tired, with the old look of an old man of eighty years. A little curved. Slowly pronounced, His words telling me that the House where I lived these three days was built, thanks to Sant Ajaib Singh’s blessings. It is His divine intervention that has touched the heart of good souls.

The Master stops briefly. Suddenly, after a short preparation, He tells me not to be late to leave. I agree and I hasten. Meanwhile, He returns home to His Irena.  Before leaving—it is my good rule to go to Him for a last Darshan—when I am at the door, I hear him transformed back into a 20-year-old who plays guitar and sings a Bhajan never heard before: How’s it going my friend?  I’m sitting on the doorstep of His house, inside the porch, and I feel that I am the most happy and fortunate woman on this earth. This song is for me! Directed entirely to me in all ways: in words, in the sound in the melody, in its meaning. This stuns me to the blood and to all the cells of the body. From head to feet. The arms, legs, face; and sighing I say again in my heart: “It’s really the Rapture! A drug, par excellence! And it is only the Master Who can know and be able to inject the souls desires.”

With grace, I greet my beloved Irena with sweet words of immense gratitude. She also fills my heart with words that I keep in my heart. Then I step over to Him so that He can return to me, a book: a biography of Master Kirpal, on which He has written a message and drawn His splendid drawing: the S of Sirio was designed as a cheerful and joyous Swan.

As I am leaving, He faces the window to give me, again and again, His Darshan, His smile, and His immense love, the love of a true Man-God. Drunk from His Bhajan, I  walk backwards in Garden.  He smiles. And He smiles until He sees me to the gate.

I wish heartily to everyone—satsangi or not—to every man and woman in this universe, to spend at least once in their life, a Christmas, a birth, or a rebirth, in the company of a Master such as the Holy Satguru, Sirio Dev Ji. 

Sat Naam-Annji.

As always, thanks for stopping by my blog. Please comment if so inclined–even if only mildly inclined–no problem.      jesse s. hanson

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jesse hanson‘s review

Jan 04, 12  · 

 

Recommended for: anyone

Read in January, 2012

jesse hanson‘s review

Jan 04, 12  · 

 

Read from November 20 to December 23, 2011

 

A Great, and I Think, Little Known Classic

A review of Kurban Said’s novel, Ali and Nino 

I’d never even heard of this story, but my circles don’t run that wide. I stumbled across it: a love story, extraordinare–a love story in more ways than one. Where Asia meets Russia meets Europe. An Islamic boy and a Georgian girl. A Russian revolution and a World War. All of this lovingly and elegantly captured in classic novel format by an unknown author with the ghost name, Kurban Said.

Just click on the edition here (http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/46284…) and read the great synopsis by Alix Wilbur. If you’d rather just read it cold without the synopsis, then just read it. It may be even more relevant today than in the time of its inception. It is such a lovingly rendered view of fundamental Islamic culture that the non-Islamist reader is irresistably drawn in. Simultaneously sincere and lighthearted.

Please read it… You won’t forget it.

Master Sirio Ji’s New Years Message here is mostly re-printed from the Sant Bani Ashram-Hungary website.

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MESSAGE FOR THE NEW YEAR – 2012

How are you friend.

(Sirio)

How are you,
how are you friend,
how are you friend of my heart,
what about your inner quest?
How far have you come close to the Over Self.
I really hope you did not get lost
in the intricacies of the world
And that you have not allowed your mind
to drown you in the bottomless oblivion.
Know, my friend of venture
the search of the Sacred is a great adventure
To overlook or forget it
it is certainly a great misfortune.
What can I say to make you understand
that the purpose of life is to be able
To climb higher and higher
up to merging into the One
and, Sach Khand, realize.
You know it is not for everyone,
but if we engage in it, it can be done.
To get convinced, however, we must crave for Him
and above all, we should place Him.
It’s true, so many have succeeded
Why should you live
in this sloppy reality;
even if you have been overcome
do not accept the defeat.
I know, you’re a brave warrior,
so jump on your sprightly steed
ride and never stop
until you’re face to face
with the Primal Being.

This is the poem I was inspired to as a message for the New Year: the infamous 2012 which is considered by many as the year of the great catastrophe, the shocking reversal, the illusive quantum leap, the great expansion of collective consciousness, the chrysalis that turns into a butterfly. So many fantasies, theories, hypothesis, apparent certainties, fears, fantasies. Who knows what will happen? Well, this is not a hundred-years’ time, not fifty; it is just one year. Yes, because in addition to having a year, it also has a precise day, the big bang, and it would be the twenty-first of December.

It may be true, or could not be true, but for us what is going to change? We are still the human beings that we are and one thing is certain, you do not jump out of yourself either with the advent of two thousand and twelve, nor we do change with the final step which is death (something to which we might almost be all subjected, according to the predictions). In two thousand and twelve, could happen or not happen, whatever we want, but one thing is certain: the transformation of consciousness is something that happens only to those who are ready for it. It’s not enough to make us ready for a date, but a great job is needed to be done on ourselves to change from unconscious to conscious beings, from selfish to self-sacrificing beings, from mean human beings, into good beings, from lying into truthful ones, from violent to pacific, from lustful to parsimonious, from greedy to altruistic, from being morbidly attached to everything to a dispassionate way, from vain to being simple, from arrogant to humble… now it is enough even if the list could go on.

If we could live this, to implement it in our lives, in our person, what a beautiful thing it would be! Then, of two thousand and twelve, [say] yes, [or] two thousand and twelve not, we wouldn’t care at all because first of all we would have overcome the fear of death, indeed, we would have experienced in life the great step beyond the last frontier, where the material is broken down and only the spirit hovers in infinite space.

So all this emphasis on the theories for the two thousand and twelve and this expecting the cheap transformation, ready enlightenment for all mankind, an era of peace, harmony, right-living, fair trading, humane and just economy, and so on, yes these are beautiful imaginations, but as such have nothing to do with the hard reality of the facts.

Thus, better to return to this more personal and subjective reality, which is what we have, here and now, as the ultimate concrete substance. Then, this hymn begins with a very specific request:

How are you friend,
how are you friend of the heart,
what about your inner quest
how far have you come close to the Over Self?

When we care about someone, we always want their own good, so the Master has always at heart the spiritual welfare, as well as the material welfare, of his spiritual children and friends. For this, He asks us, even to remind us: “How is your spiritual adventure, how have you used the year just past, did you get any closer to the supreme God-realization?” Have you used well this year by regularly doing your meditation, regularly going to Satsang and participating in spirital retreats? And Simran? Did you try to make it as constant as possible, oh and the songs, the bhajans, have you learned a lot and have you improved the quality, the transport by which you sing them?

These are the practices that allow us to maintain a high level of our consciousness and allow us to live life at its best: full of goodness and inspiration. But then He adds:

I really hope you did not get lost in the intricacies of the world
And that you have not allowed your mind
to drown you in the bottomless oblivion.

This is a possibility always ready to jump on us and dominate us: the oblivion, forgetfulness. For various reasons we fall into the trap that separates us from the straight path and leads us down into the meanderings of the world: sloth, lust, the calling of matters of the flesh, the doubt that drives us to think that we have understood better than the Master what is right or wrong and how to behave on the Way. Sure there may be other reasons, but these are among the most frequent. For this reason the smart seeker will pay close attention to these factors and will always remain clinging to the saving anchor that is the Master.

Know my partner of venture
The search of the Sacred is a great adventure
To neglect it and forget it is certainly a great misfortune.

What is the greatest enterprise of life? The quest for the Holy, the Divine, is the greatest adventure. Why is that? I suppose because it leads us to the ultimate goal of human potential: the self-realization and God realization. It’s not a small feat I assure you, it’s beautiful to live in that enlightened consciousness, the inner state of great harmony and deep peace, great reverence for all creation, such a respect for all since it becomes clear that everything is a manifestation of His infinity.

Neglecting and forgetting this great goal after discovering its existence—its possibility—becomes, of course, the great misfortune of existence.

What can I say to make you understand that the purpose of life
It is to be able to always go higher and higher up to merging
in the One, and achieving Sach Khand.

Well, the Master acts as a solicitor, so He will always remind us what is the purpose of life and always will inspire us in that direction. Perhaps at some point we get to hate him, but he does not care and always performs His work selflessly. So he will keep telling us that immersion in the One that is Sach Khand or “the True Condition”, is the great purpose of life and that we must never forget that.

You know, it’s not for everyone, but if we engage in it, it can be done.
But, believe me; for Him we must crave and, above
All, He must be placed .

The Master does not want to delude us by making us believe that this adventure is easy and for everyone. No, He is real, thus He tells us that it is not easy, but it is also not impossible.Iif you commit to it, it can be done. If this research is placed above all, we can do it. However, it is a course that is mandatory for every human being, so the closer we get to the goal in this life, the better for us.

It’s true, so many have succeeded in it
Why should you live this sloppy reality?
Even if you have been overcome, do not accept the defeat.

The Masters are here to encourage us, to inspire us so they always say things that help us to make ever greater efforts in the belief that it is not a hypothesis, not an illusion, not an empty promise. The libraries are full of books in which many Masters, in the course of human history, have testified to having been able to reach this blessed Moksha or Liberation. In all parts of the world and from any mystical Path, in any tradition, there are people who claim to have achieved this goal. So we are told: Look, it’s not fantasy as much you would have believed. No, it’s true, you can do it; why are you satisfied with this trivial, misshapen life.

Of course, during the mystical ascent, in the great flight to the Infinite, you can fall, you can be defeated, you can break your wings, but we must never give up and always we have to start again to fly, to climb until we reach the goal. We always have to get up, even if we are injured or we end up with our face in the mud; we get back up and resume the journey.

I know, you’re a warrior,
So jump on your sprightly steed
Ride and never stop until
you will come face to face with Primal Being.

How great it must be to be face to face with that Being, that Reality, that Pure Consciousness from which all life is given off: the Inviolable, the Unthinkable, the Primordial Purusha, the Adi Guru. For this reason, even if we fall in the enterprise, if we are defeated, we forget; it doesn’t matter. As soon as we find the strength we jump on the winged horse and restart the climbing, the flight.

So dear ones, this little Satsang is the message for the year two thousand and twelve that, for us, is one year just as another, and we definitely do not want to consider the many fears that lurk in the human soul about the possible implications for humanity. We do not care about anything because we have our suitcase ready and when the Satguru calls us, we are ready to leave immediately.

We are interested in doing as much meditation as possible, attending all possible Satsangs, taking part in all the retreats with Master, and then… if at the end of the year … we will have to go, welcome! We will be ready and we’ll go by shouting:

                                                                  Jay Satguru, you are our helmsman,
                                                                 Guide our ship, let us reach the other shore.

                                                                                      Sirio

The dates of the retreats in 2012

January    2-3-4-5-6    Sant Bani Ashram (Ribolla)

February    4-5    Preganziol (Italy)

March    9-10-11    Budapest (Hungary)

April    25-1st of May    Sant Bani Ashram (Ribolla)

May    18-19-20    Hamburg (Germany)

June    15-16-17    Transylvania (Romania)

July    10-17    Budapest (Hungary)

August    15-21    Sant Bani Ashram (Ribolla)

August    25-1^st of September (tentative dates) – Moundsville, West Virginia (U.S.A.)

September    15-16    Preganziol

November    1-2-3-4    Sant Bani Ashram (Ribolla)

December    7-8-9    Budapest (Hungary)

What a wonderful surprise when I was contacted by Laura De Silva of Open Road Integrated Media and presented with the opportunity to share this information: sixty-three Howard Fast titles to be published in EBook format, this month, December, 2011.

There’s so much I could say about this hero of the real America, this spokesman for the common person everywhere. If you haven’t heard of Howard Fast, there’s a good reason for it. His work was banned and effectively buried during what Fast, in his memoir, Being Red, called the “mini-terror”—the McCarthy era. And although the ban was eventually lifted, it seems that the mini-terror lives on through our propaganda driven fears—the shadow places of our collective minds— as we struggle, seemingly in vain, to rise to the consciousness of a free people.

Those of us who love and appreciate Fast’s work could go on and on, but I would ask you to let Fast tell you the story  his way. If you read just one —perhaps The American (classic struggle of the American worker), or Freedom Road (the terrible reality of post-slavery “reconstruction”), or the poignantly heartbreaking revolutionary war novel, April Morning, I think you may want to, as I have begun to do, seek out the surviving copies of his books, tattered and battered though you may find them. However, Open Road Media has done much of the work for us at this time. Lover of technology or no, the work of this incredibly prolific writer is being preserved. For that we should be very grateful.

As always, thanks for stopping by my blog. Please leave a comment if so inclined. If I decide it’s not spam, I’ll approve it.   (:<)>     Namaste, jesse s. hanson

NOTE: The video above and all of the content below is reprinted from The Open Road Blog

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NEWS FROM OPEN ROAD: December 13, 2011

 
Sixty-three Titles by New York Times Bestselling Author Howard Fast

Launching as Ebooks from Open Road Media

“The only thing that infuriates me, is that I have more unwritten stories in me

than I can conceivably write in a lifetime.” —Howard Fast
 

Sixty-three titles by Howard Fast (1914­­–2003), one of the most prolific American writers of the twentieth century, will be released as ebooks by Open Road Integrated Media in December. Open Road will publish both fiction and nonfiction during a three-stage rollout.
 

Howard Fast, the bestsellingauthor of more than eighty works of fiction, nonfiction, poetry, and screenplays, grew up in New York City and published his first novel upon finishing high school in 1933. In 1950, his refusal to provide the United States Congress with a list of possible Communist associates earned him a three-month prison sentence, along with a place on the blacklist of severalmajor publishers. During his incarceration, Fast wrote one of his best-known novels, Spartacus (1951), and went on to found his own press, Blue Heron, in order to release the work. Throughout his long career, Fast matched his commitment to championing social justice in his writing with a deft, lively storytelling style. His collection of bestselling novels such as Conceived in Liberty, Citizen Tom Paine, April Morning, and The Legacy illustrate themes of freedom and human rights in a time of turbulence and global war.

On December 13, 2011, nineteen titles—including April Morning—will be released. In April Morning, on the eve of the American Revolution, the Battle of Lexington and Concord changes a boy’s life—and a nation’s history—forever. Sweeping in scope and masterful in execution, this novel is a classic of American fiction and an unforgettable story of one community’s fateful struggle for freedom. The Incredible Tito, Fast’s fascinating biography of Joseph Broz, known to the world as Tito, including his rise to power and his remarkable stand against fascism, will be offered to readers as a free download.
 

On December 20, nineteenmysteries by Howard Fast writing as E. V. Cunningham will be released as ebooks. These include the Masao Masuto mysteries, beginning with The Case of the Angry Actress, starring detective Masuto, a second-generation Japanese-American, Buddhist homicide detective. Other titles include such female-centered works as Phyllis, Sally, and others.

On December 27, twenty-five titles will complete Open Road Media’s Howard Fast ebook collection. Three of these are from Fast’s much-loved Immigrants series, an immensely popular saga that spanned six novels and over a century of the Lavette family’s story. Of this series, Open Road will release The Legacy, The Immigrant’s Daughter, and An Independent Woman. Two of the nonfiction titles—The Art of Zen Meditation, in which Fast offers readers a simple, straightforward introduction to Zen meditation, which had a profound influence on his writing and personal philosophy; and Spain and Peace, a 1951 pamphlet that contains a powerful denunciation of Spanish dictator Francisco Franco—will be offered as free downloads.

Extra content includes:
 

•  Behind-the-scenes author commentary and videos at www.openroadmedia.com/authors/howard-fast.aspx
•  An illustrated biography in each ebook, including previously unseen photographs and documents from Fast’s personal life and distinguished career
 

Amazon.com, Apple iBookstore, Barnesandnoble.com, Google eBookstore/IndieBound, Kobo Books, OverDrive, and Sony Reader Store

Availability begins on December 13, 2011:

 
The American

April Morning

The Children

Citizen Tom Paine

Clarkton

Conceived in Liberty

Departure

The Edge of Tomorrow

The Incredible Tito*

The Last Supper

Moses

The Passion of Sacco and Vanzetti

Patrick Henry and the Frigate’s Keel

Place in the City

The Proud and the Free

Silas Timberman

The Story of Lola Gregg

Thirty Pieces of Silver

The Winston Affair
 

On December, 20, 2011

mysteries by Howard Fast writing as E. V. Cunningham will go on sale:

 
Alice

Cynthia

Helen

Lydia

Margie

Millie

Penelope

Phyllis

Sally

Shirley

The Assassin Who Gave Up His Gun

The Case of the Angry Actress

The Case of the Kidnapped Angel

The Case of the Murdered Mackenzie

The Case of the One-Penny Orange

The Case of the Poisoned Eclairs

The Case of the Russian Diplomat

The Case of the Sliding Pool

The Wabash Factor
 

On December 27, 2011

more titles will be added to the Howard Fast ebook collection:

 
Agrippa’s Daughter

The Art of Zen Meditation*

The Confession of Joe Cullen

The Crossing

Dinner Party

The General Zapped an Angel

Greenwich

Hunter and the Trap

The Immigrant’s Daughter

An Independent Woman

The Jews

The Legacy

Literature and Reality

Max

The Naked God

The Outsider

Peekskill USA

The Pledge

Power

Redemption

Spain and Peace*

Strange Yesterday

Time and the Riddle

Torquemada

A Touch of Infinity

Featured this week in our showcase of All Things That Matter Press authors is the remarkable Amy Krout-Horn. I’m really happy about today’s post because I’m currently reading Amy’s new book, My Father’s Blood. So far my impressions are: so well written-intimate portrayal of a unique and loving family-revealing, personally, regarding the author’s relationship with her inherited illness.

A fine choice for a Christmas gift–no question!

As always; thanks for stopping by my blog and please feel welcome to leave a comment, should you so desire.       Namaste, jesse s. hanson

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Amy Krout-Horn(Oieihake Win, Last Word Woman) has resided in two worlds; the world of the sighted and the world of the blind. She has been a writer in both of them. She spent time in Washington DC acting as a political lobbyist for the disabled, worked as the first blind teaching assistant at the University of Minnesota’s American Indian Studies program, and holds degrees in American Indian studies and psychology. She is a regular contributor to Slate and Style magazine and, in 2008, was awarded their top fiction prize for War Pony.

Glad to be back, finally (or temporarily, who knows) and able to present another fine author, breaking from the gate and representing the thoroughbred stable of small presses, All Things That Matter Press: South Africa’s own Maggie Tideswell.

I hope you’ll enjoy learning a bit about Maggie and that you’ll continue to give a thought to small presses like ATTMP in your search for interesting reads. Thanks for stopping by my blog and please leave a comment if you’re so inclined.      jesse s. hanson

 Continuing with this blogging series about the authors at All Things That Matter Press: this week’s featured author is Elizaveta Ristrova. Elizabeth has lead and contuinues to lead a very unique and interesting life. I hope you’ll enjoy reading about her and that these author blogs may inspire some of you to consider purshasing books by small press authors as the holiday season arrives. As we’ve seen, ATTMP offers a noteable variety of reading choices. The writers come from very diverse backgrounds and there is really no way to pigeon-hole them into any particular genre or category.

As always, I want to say that I appreciate your visiting my blog and I hope you’ll feel comfortable enough to leave a comment should you be inspired to do so. Namaste, jesse

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“Just who is Elizaveta Ristrova, anyway?”

As always, thanks for coming by and please leave a comment if you feel so inclined. Namaste,  jesse

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Who Is Abe March?

This beautiful little allegory of autumn was written by the Master in 2001. So the comments about the weather do not pertain to the current situation in Tuscany.

Thank you for stopping by at my blog and please leave a comment if so inclined.     dass, Jesse

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AUTUMN IS BACK
Sirio Carrapa

Autumn is back, but the same fall as the last, it is not.
The previous year it rained to the extent of the impossible.
This year, very little rain, but the wind is powerful and
unpredictable―enough to bring down two big eucalyptus.
Countless autumns, since the beginning of times, never two exactly alike.
To say, the autumn will return, and expect a repeat of the same phenomena, with the same sequence, is equivalent to saying: all grow old in the same
way, with the ailments coming at the same pace, or: all will die in the same way, after having long suffered, or, suddenly, after a heart attack during sleep.

 It gives a sense of security to believe that the story of life always repeats in the same way: the Golden Age is followed by the silver age,
the Bronze comes after, and then we plunge into the Iron Age.
I ask: has there been such an age, in the eternal flow of
existence, that has been repeating in the same way as the previous ones, without some changes or surprises? Without nuances and details
completely original?

 The seasons of the year in some places are four, in others they are five
or six, and yet, in others, are mainly two; there are places where the temperature remains constant throughout the year.
Most trees lose almost all of their leaves in autumn and take them on
again in the spring, but there are those who renew their leaves
continuously and are never bare. Some species lose them
after all others have put theirs on, and dress up as soon as those are bare. Others still, remain naked when all are dressed up and only dress up 
when others are all naked.

And has there ever been a Prophet, a Messiah, an Avatar, a Buddha,
Satguru, a Seer, a Sage who gave the same message
with exactly the same language?
Who has used exactly the same method and stayed in the same stages?

Came Krishna  who highlighted the  Lila: The game of the Divine.
It was Buddha who drew the mid-way line.
Then came Jesus Christ who had to climb on the cross to enlighten,
by His example, the path of sacrifice and human suffering
for the redemption of the flesh.
Mohammed represented the power of the Divine who, by the power of
His Word and with sword in hand, propagated His faith.
Kabir and Nanak, traced the mystic path of meditation
on the inner Light and Sound, emanations of the Eternal.
They fought and condemned the empty outer practice of religion,
as well as the superstitions and blind faith in the world.
Many other Emissaries of Truth Eternal manifested on the
stage of the world, each bringing an innovative  and original
contribution, each altering the flavors and aromas
of these traditional dishes and drinks.

 The eternal truth continually takes on a new appearance and,
every time, it has to play a new tune that is acceptable to the new listeners.
In the present day, the tune is called: positive thought.
If reality is self-created, let us give it the face of positivity,
in which we recognize the usefulness of all: good and evil,
joy and suffering, the experience of duality, in order to return,
fully aware, to Unity.
November 18, 2001

Welcome to the third post, featuring some of my fellow authors from All Things That Matter Press. Today we have Salvatore Buttaci, a master of the short story. Sal’s a very friendly and gregarious fellow with lots of energy and creativity, so he’s always coming up with new material.

As always, thanks for stopping by my blog and please do leave a comment if you feel so inclined.                              Namaste, jesse

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Just who is Salvatore Buttaci anyway?